


Looking for Saviors

by ItsyBitsyBatsySpider



Category: Shazam! (2019)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Child Abuse, Gen, Intense, Kidnapping, Other, but bad enough for a tag, nothing too bad, someone punches Billy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 17:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20411317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsyBitsyBatsySpider/pseuds/ItsyBitsyBatsySpider
Summary: Sometimes, even superheroes need saving. And when Billy accidentally gets kidnapped and can't save himself, who better to save him than his brother, Freddy??





	Looking for Saviors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GeekyNightOwl1997](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekyNightOwl1997/gifts).

> aaaaass requested by @geekynightowl1997, i present to you all Looking for Saviors! I had so much fun writing this, like seriously, and thank you so much geekynightowl for helping me get past my writing block! I really appreciate it! 
> 
> But anyway, enjoy you guys! And hopefully, I'll update soon!

Billy woke up to his head pounding furiously, and his mind filled with fuzzy cotton. 

The boy unconsciously groaned as he awakened from a restless sleep and he couldn’t help but notice how he felt as if he was floating. But the floating sensation soon stopped, and Billy himself be slammed into the floor. His body too heavy and stiff for him to move and for the life of him couldn’t figure out why. 

Darkness filled his vision and not a speck of light could be seen. 

Billy shook his head lazily, a feeble attempt to rid himself of the cotton, but the moment his head swung from one side to the other, a searing pain reared up in his jaw, causing the teen to cry out in pain. His cries echoed and bounced off of the walls surrounding him. The brunet instinctually closed up his throat, silencing the cry immediately, and he began panting heavily. His breath coming out in raspy breaths that ached for air, but the desired breath alluded him. Why did he hurt so much? 

The pain resided and turned into a dull throb, the aching clashing against his headache and making the boy tightly clench his fists and close his eyes in discomfort. 

_ What is happening?  _ He thought, feeling disoriented and strange. It was as if he wasn’t in his own body, but in someone else’s, watching this malevolent nightmare play out. The pain didn’t even feel like his own. All he knew was that he was in agonizing pain, and he didn’t know how to get rid of it. 

It was like a vivid, cloudy, and painful dream; and it was one that he couldn’t wake up from. 

He couldn’t see anything, it was inky blackness, and he couldn’t think past the cotton in his mind. But he could feel things. Like the wet, rough binding around his hands. The scratchy fabric made him cringe as he felt it rub his skin raw, and he could vaguely feel a sturdy structure beneath him that could only be a worn-out chair propping him up uncomfortably, seeing as his hands were tied behind his back. 

The throbbing in his head and jaw flared up again, the pain becoming almost unbearable for the teen and making it even harder to think clearly. He grit his teeth impulsively but quickly came to the realization that that was not a good thing for him to do. 

Billy’s clouded thoughts and labored breaths were interrupted when a familiar sound started making its way towards him. 

Footsteps. 

Light footsteps that tread across the floor strongly and unhesitatingly, followed by frustrated voices and shuffling. 

“What are we supposed to do now? That was our one shot and we screwed it up!” one voice said, sounding fairly young yet a little husky and gravelly. “If we try to do it again, then  _ he’s  _ going to be there and expecting us!” 

“Shut up I know!” another voice snapped, clearly frustrated and agitated with what the other person had said. “But how was I going to fucking know that that kid was going to get in the way! It’s not my damn fault he decided to play a hero!” 

Billy cringed as the voices got closer and rose even higher in anger, the loud noises hurting his head and making Billy want to curl up in himself to avoid them. But his tied up arms prevented him from doing so. 

“Yeah but guys,” another voice said, this one sounding much more level and deeper, almost calming, which was a large contrast from the other two’s irritation. “We still got a kid, and by the looks of it, the cripple and him were friends.”

Someone scoffed. “Yeah? So what? That does us jackshit.” 

“Oh come on Dylan, use your head for once!” Billy heard a wooden creak from somewhere in the room he was in and instantly, his body went limp. His head hung down low over his chest, causing an uncomfortable ache from his jaw, his arms slumped down, and his breathing, while still labored, quieted. He tried to play off that he was unconscious and that he hadn’t been picking up on the mysterious trio’s conversation. A door opened from behind Billy, the hinges squeaky painfully against his ears, and he heard people walk into the room, their voices immediately hushed as they continued their chat. 

“We may not have gotten the cripple, but I’m guessing we got one of his friends. And how much do you wanna bet that the cripple’s gonna go to Powerstorm to ask him to rescue his friend here?” said the deep-voiced one. 

The other two fell silent, and Billy could practically hear the gears in their heads turning. He heard one of them walk away and sit down close to Billy, leather squeaking as weight sank into a couch and Billy knew that that was probably important, that he should make a mental map of the place, but his head was still a little cloudy, and his jaw still ached. and he still couldn’t see or think straight. He moaned in annoyance and pain at the same time and then he froze as the teen realized that he made a sound.

Billy heard footsteps walk up from behind him and felt a rough hand grab the back of his head. The hand jerked away, and with it the darkness melted, replaced with a low light that seemed to almost blind Billy. 

The teen began to breathe rapidly, feeling a tightness rise up inside of him and squeeze an invisible rope around his chest. He couldn’t breathe right, and he couldn’t get his heart to calm down. 

“Well! Look who’s finally awake!” a boisterous voice exclaimed. A strangled whine came from Billy and in that moment he wanted to punch himself. He sounded pathetic. That wasn’t him, he wasn’t weak. So why did his voice do the wrong thing and make him sound like it. 

“You know, you have made things  _ really fucking  _ hard for us. It almost makes me want to throw you out that window there.” 

Billy looked up, and he was met with the sight of a large man. Greasy blonde hair fell down to his shoulders in stranded clumps, cold grey eyes with dark bags beneath them stared into Billy’s soft green ones, and patchy scruff that looked like some kind of half-assed beard. He wore a big ill-fitting, leather jacket that fell down low beneath his hips, and some torn up jeans with scuffed up motorcycle boots. The man had bandages wrapped thickly around his wrist and a large patch of gauze and tape covered his left cheek, and he reeked of drugs and malice. 

“But I can’t,” he said which a cruel, sickly smile on his face. “Because you, little shit, fractured my wrist.” the man leaned down and placed his hands on the armrests of the chair so that Billy was forced to look him in the eye. The brunet swallowed down a whimper. “And you know what I do to little shits who fracture my wrist?” 

The man behind Billy shuffled from his spot on the couch. “Dylan that’s enough.” he said forcibly. The man, now known as Dylan, slowly leaned back, standing upright with his gaze never leaving Billy. He walked away, his grey eyes cold and reflecting stone, and Billy knew which a shiver down his spine that he was in trouble. 

Big trouble.

The couch shifted again, leather squeaking against leather, and this time the deep-voiced man came into Billy’s vision. The first thing he noticed was that the man was bald, and while that may have been a rude thing to initially notice, it did make him stand out and easier for Billy to remember who the leader was. 

The man sported a few cuts and scrapes across his jaw, his flesh pink and red from obvious fingernail scratches. The brunet wondered if he had done that. The man wore a dark sleeveless hoodie over an under armor t-shirt, as well as grey cargo pants and boots. He seemed much more calm about what was happening and a lot less creepy than Dylan and seemed to almost have a safe and peaceful air about him. 

But Billy knew better. 

He shouldn’t trust any of these guys, no matter what they said or did or how they acted, he couldn’t trust them. 

The man sized-up Billy and nodded as he thought of something. He walked over and pulled up a chair and sat in it backwards, his arms crossed over the back of it. 

“Hey kid,” he said. His tenor voice filled with compassion and warmth. Billy’s eyes narrowed and he looked the man up and down, trying to find anything in his body language that betrayed his friendly nature, but he couldn’t find any. 

“So, here’s the gist. You, are going to sit here quietly and do nothing. You’re not gonna talk, not gonna move, not gonna try to escape, and you aren’t gonna do anything unless one of us tells you to. If you want to get out of here safe and alive, then you’re going to listen to everything I tell you and answer every question I have. Do I make myself clear?” the man asked, his voice full of authority.

Billy swallowed hard and he felt his heart skip a beat. He clenched his fists beneath the binding and his eyes hardened in defiance as he remained silent. The brunet could feel his head begin to clear, but he still had trouble figuring out what was going on and how he ended up here. The man stared at Billy, his black eyes unwavering and with a swift movement punched Billy in the gut. 

The boy doubled over, sputtering. But the reaction was abruptly interrupted by a sudden flare of white-hot pain in his jaw, and Billy didn’t know if he should cough and breathe, or stop breathing and let the agonizing pain reside into its former throb. But sadly, he wasn’t given the time to decide when the man gripped his brown hair, messing up its remaining neatness, and yanked it upwards. Billy gasped, his mind clouding once more from the sudden torments, and was forced to look at the man, whose face showed no regret for what he had just done. 

“Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.” he hissed. 

Billy glared, imagining all of his pain, anger, and defiance was visible in his glare, yet he relented a nod. The man let go of Billy’s hair and shoved him aside, causing the teen to whimper. 

“Good. Now, first question, what’s your name, and how do you know that crippled kid?” 

Billy grunted, still trying to ignore or tolerate the pain before he turned back to the leader. He didn’t want to answer. He could only assume from their prior conversation and from how they were talking that they somehow meant Freddy. But how did they know Freddy? There was no reason for these guys to be after him. Because for all they knew he was just some kid in eighth grade who didn’t know anything about anything!

And if they thought that he was going to tell them anything about his brother, then these guys had another thing coming. He wasn’t going to tell them jackshit or even give them the opportunity to get close to Freddy. He was going to make sure that Freddy would remain safe, if it was the last goddamn thing he was ever going to do.

With a shuddering breath, a small thought came to mind, and the Champion remembered what he could do with just one phrase. 

He felt the word on his tongue, the one magic word that would save him from this nightmare and put an end to these guys and allow him to escape back home. The one that danced on his tongue and was just begging to be used. And oh, how he wanted to slam them into the wall or punch them half-way across Philadelphia. It would be the most satisfying thing ever. 

The brunet was just about to say the word, the first syllable already on his lips, when he felt a stiff and screaming pain in his jaw. He groaned, ducking his head and heaving heavily as his shoulders shook in tremors. 

“What?” the man before him asked. “You heard me didn’t you?” his voice had begun to edge with annoyance. Billy nodded and a whine left his throat. He tried to speak, to do anything, to let the man know that he was in pain. That he wouldn’t be able to  _ talk.  _ And thank the Wizard that he caught on, because if he hadn’t, then Billy didn’t know what he would’ve done. 

The man sighed, agitated, and placed his hands on his hips. He walked away, eerily silent and enveloped in frustrated indifference. 

He went behind Billy’s chair and tread steadily out of the room. Dylan and the other guy, who Billy still hasn’t seen, following him out with him. They gathered around their boss obediently as they crept close together to hear what he had to say. 

“The kid can’t talk.” the leader said. 

“What?” the first voice said, the young one. “Why?” 

“He’s got a broken jaw, that’s why.” 

“How can you tell?” 

The leader sighed. “Don’t you see the bruising on his face? And remember how he tried to jump out? There’s no way his jaw  _ isn’t  _ broken. I honestly should’ve expected it.” There was a big sigh.

“But Scott how are we gonna get answers out of him now?” 

“Don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. Because one way or another, the Human Powerstorm is gonna come to save him. And that’s when we’ll get at him. So all we gotta do is wait. He’ll come.”

Billy’s eyes widened. 

His mind whirled, going a thousand miles a minute as he tried to think through the last of the clouds, and slowly, Billy began to put the pieces together. 

These guys, for some reason had wanted Freddy, because they seemed to think that he had some connection to his superpowered self, but something went wrong and when they had tried to grab his foster brother, he had gotten in the way? And then instead of taking Freddy, they got him? And then at some point he had fallen out and hit his jaw; breaking it. Which meant that now he couldn’t talk... and he couldn’t say the magic word that would get him out of here.

But when did this all happen? How long had he been gone? Hours?  _ Days?!  _ The last thing he could really remember was walking home from school with Freddy. Was that when all of this happened? It must’ve been. Because from what Billy could tell, he was still wearing the clothes he had worn to school that day. And oh God, what had happened to Freddy? Was he okay? Did anything bad happen to him? The men had said that they hadn’t gotten him, so Freddy must’ve gotten away somehow. 

But then Billy felt a chill go down his spine and his blood froze as he realized something. 

If these guys were only interested in Freddy because he could lead them to the Human Powerstorm... then what exactly did they want?

Who were these guys?

And what did they want with  _ him. _

**Author's Note:**

> Whooooo!!!! Yes! Ugh, im so excited to finish this for you guys, its gonna be so cool!   
leave a comment and kudo if you so wish, i always love hearing from you guys, and i'll see you all next time!! 
> 
> Bye!!


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